


Elementary, My Dear Anderson

by perry_avenue



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-05 08:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16807372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perry_avenue/pseuds/perry_avenue
Summary: Blaine and Kurt are thrilled to be visiting Lima over the Christmas holiday. They’re happy to take a break from their busy schedules; Blaine as a popular professor of music composition at NYU, Kurt as an actor who has just finished a successful run in the off-Broadway playSherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Purloined Prize.But when an accident befalls Blaine, will visions of Dr. Watson dance in his head?  This Klaine Advent 2018 holiday adventure is a continuous story that will post one or more times a week through December 24.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It feels good to rejoin the Klaine Fanfic Party after a two year absence! A Future!Klaine story idea that’s been buried since 2016 decided that it wanted to come out and celebrate Advent. I hope you enjoy it!

Day 1: Snowman

Blaine shifted in his seat and turned to Kurt, who was next to him, eyes closed, listening to a playlist through his ear buds. Blaine hesitated to disturb him, but he figured he had a good enough reason. He carefully removed the ear bud closest to him. 

“Hey, husband,” he said softly. Kurt opened one eye and gave him a questioning look. “The plane’s going to land in less than an hour. I thought I’d use the bathroom now, while it’s quiet. Let me out?”

Kurt stretched, took out the other ear bud, unbuckled his seat belt, and slowly stood up, moving sideways into the aisle. “I knew I should have taken the window seat.”

Blaine squeezed his arm affectionately as he passed in front of him, not at all minding when their bodies brushed together. “I’ll remind you next time.”

*  
Burt was waiting when they landed in Columbus. The winter cold hit them the minute they stepped through the sliding doors onto the sidewalk. Kurt tightened the scarf around his neck. “God. It’s even colder here than in New York.”

Burt smiled. “See what happens when you stay away too long? You get nostalgic for winter in Ohio.”

Kurt grinned. “I don’t think that’s what I meant. But I am nostalgic about Christmas.”

Burt opened the trunk of his car so Kurt and Blaine could load their bags. “We did what you told us,” he said to Kurt. “Carole and I bought the tree, but held off on the decorating. We’re leaving that to you and Blaine.”

“Maybe ‘leaving that to you so you can give orders to Blaine’ is more accurate,” Blaine teased as he opened the rear passenger door and got inside.

Kurt, who took the front seat next to Burt, turned around and gave Blaine a mock glare. “Never orders, sweetie. Just suggestions.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” said Burt as he pulled out of the parking space.

“Dad! You’re supposed to be on my side!!”

As they got closer to Lima, Kurt’s eyes were glued to the window, while he pointed out what was new and what had stayed the same since their last visit home. When they reached his old neighborhood, Kurt began to critique the outdoor holiday decorations that adorned many of the homes. Inflatables seemed to be all the rage.

“I think that’s nice,” said Burt as they drove by a lawn with an inflatable snowman and three illuminated reindeer. “Very traditional.” Blaine was about to say something when Kurt spotted a front yard full of inflatable Minions.

“Oh my god. Please tell me what Kevin and Stuart have to do with Christmas!”

Blaine smiled. Kurt had no patience with design fails, whether it was clothing or home décor. “You didn’t seem to mind the Mickey and Minnie Mouse inflatables two blocks back.”

“Mickey and Minnie are iconic,” Kurt replied. “They transcend Christmas. I find inflatable Minions aesthetically offensive as holiday decorations.”

“Guess I’d better scratch my plans for a Minion holiday tableau for our apartment, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!
> 
> My thanks to The Road Warrior and The Fan Daughter, who tossed around plot ideas for this fic during a long car ride to New York City in August 2016 to see Darren Criss in _White Rabbit Red Rabbit!_ Not once in two years have they asked what happened to it, bless them! Thanks as well to my fabulous beta and dear friend [ flowerfan](archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan) who is solely responsible for this fic’s resurrection. She can be very persuasive when she wants to be!
> 
> Last but certainly not least, my thanks to Slayediest and all the fabulous people at klaineadvent and todaydreambelieversfic for keeping the Klaine fanfic torch lit and the fun never ending.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 2: Cinnamon

When Burt turned into the driveway of their home, Carole was waiting inside the front door. “We’re so glad you could come!” Carole exclaimed as Kurt and Blaine walked up the front stairs, Burt following behind. “Let’s get you all warmed up!”

Once the luggage was deposited in Kurt’s old bedroom, the family settled in the living room, sipping the hot chocolate sprinkled with cinnamon that Kurt had prepared, and snacking on the homemade cookies Blaine had made the night before in New York.

Carole and Burt brought Kurt and Blaine up to date on family news. But Carole was impatient to hear from her “boys.” “We want the latest scoop on you two!”

Kurt turned to Blaine. “You want to go first? You have so much to tell them!”

Blaine shook his head smiling. “They’re your parents. Go ahead.”

“If ‘ _Sherlock Holmes and the Adventure of the Purloined Prize’_ hadn’t posted its closing notice when it did, I wouldn’t have this time off. So we have the show to thank for our family Christmas celebration this year.”

“Were you disappointed when you got the news it was closing?” Carole asked. 

Kurt shook his head. “Not really. It was wonderful to have a ten month run. Not bad at all for an off Broadway play. The show made its money back for the producers, so no one’s complaining. I’ve enjoyed the time off, and we’ve been able to do more things together.” Kurt turned to Blaine and squeezed his hand. “But I won’t lie. I _loved_ that role!” 

Carole nodded. “You were a great Sherlock. Those stories by Arthur Conan Doyle were my favorites growing up.”

Burt turned to Carole. “We weren’t the only ones who felt that way. Kurt got an Obie Award nomination for acting,”

Carole nodded. “We were so excited when you called to tell us!”

“Kurt deserved that nomination. He was amazing,” Blaine said proudly.

Kurt blushed at the compliments and leaned into Blaine for a hug. “So are you.”

Carole smiled at her stepson. “You really became Sherlock Holmes on stage.”

A series of very pleasant memories popped into Blaine’s head. “He became Sherlock Holmes at home, too, slipping into character at the most unexpected times.” 

“Really?” Carole asked, clearly intrigued.

Kurt turned quickly to Blaine, shook his head, and mouthed the word “no.”

Blaine knew to quit while he was ahead. “I’ve been advised not to pursue that line of thought any further. But, sometimes I wonder if Kurt thought of me as his Doctor Watson.”

“Better than Dr. Watson,” Kurt replied. “At least we got together in the end.”

“True, that,” Blaine confirmed. He noticed the fondly exasperated look on Burt’s face, and decided to steer Kurt back to the topic at hand. “Tell them about the new play.”

“I’m very lucky to get something so soon after the last one,” Kurt said modestly.

Blaine knew that Kurt’s latest role was due to more than good luck. “It’s not just luck. You’re insanely talented,” said Blaine, taking Kurt’s hand. “You’ve worked hard for this.”

Kurt kissed Blaine’s cheek. “I’m not the only one in this relationship who’s ‘insanely talented.’ But I think this is my story to tell, soo…”

Blaine nestled agreeably against Kurt’s side. “The stage is yours, husband.”

Kurt kissed Blaine again before turning to Burt and Carole. “I love when he says that to me.”

Blaine basked in how comfortable Kurt was, back in Lima, where he relaxed in a way he rarely did in New York. 

Burt’s reaction was a bit different. “Seriously guys, it’s been nearly ten years and you still act like newlyweds! Enough kissing. Tell us what’s going on.” 

“Okay, okay,” said Kurt. “I’ll try to behave. But I can’t help it if I’m constantly distracted by this gorgeous man.” 

Blaine decided to join the fun. “I know. I’m just eye candy.”

“Guys!” Carole exclaimed. Burt rolled his eyes.

Kurt looked contrite. “Sorry, Carole!”

Carole shook her head and smiled. “Just tell us about the new play.”

“It’s still being workshopped,” Kurt explained. “But the writing is great, the cast is strong, and I really like the director. The financing just got finalized, and we think it’s going to open next year. They’re trying to locate a theatre. With so many shows doing well, there aren’t enough stages for the new productions.”

Blaine was pleased to hear Kurt talk about his latest project with such confidence. It had the potential to be a hit, although Kurt was careful to keep his enthusiasm in check. Blaine understood why. So many things could still go wrong.

“What’s the plot about?” asked Carole.

Kurt grinned. “It’s kind of a combination of _The Boys in the Band_ and a gay version of _Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf!_ ”

Burt smiled at his son. “Sounds right up your alley, kid.”

Blaine chuckled. “Mart Crowley meets Edward Albee. Not something you see every day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!
> 
> Chapter 3 will publish this weekend, and takes us to the start of the adventure, so stick around!


	3. Chapter 3

Day 3: Candle  
Day 5: Ribbon  
Day 6: Feed  
Day 7: Star  
Day 8: Gradual  
Day 9: Incident

It was Blaine’s turn to bring Burt and Carole up to date, but as always, Kurt was a tough act to follow. “Guys, my news is not nearly as exciting as Kurt’s new play.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

Carole shook her head. “Just tell us, honey,” she said encouragingly.

Blaine smiled. Burt and Carole were always so supportive of him and his career achievements, and had been for years. While he didn’t think he could top Kurt, he decided to give it his best shot. After all, this wasn’t a competition.

“There _are_ a few things going on. First, I’ve resurrected the musical score I wrote for my dissertation at Yale.”

“The one that received honors,” Kurt added.

“Hey,” said Blaine playfully. “Thank you, but it’s my turn. Anyway, I’ve been working on it on and off for the past couple of years, and I recently shared it with one of my colleagues at NYU, who asked if he could show it around. To make a long story short, I think I’ve found a collaborator to write the script!”

“Blaine,” Carole exclaimed. “That’s wonderful! Your very own show!”

Blaine tempered his excitement with some common sense about the challenges ahead. “It’s going to be a gradual process, and it may never be performed on stage. But Peter, my new collaborator, is starting to make a name for himself with some smaller original musical productions in regional theatre and off-Broadway, and he’s very talented. We’ll see what happens!”

Carole clasped her hands together. “So we might finally see the two of you in the same project someday?”

Blaine shook his head. “I don’t want to say. So many things have to happen first.” He turned to Kurt and took his hand. “But you know you’re in my head every time I write a song. You’ve been my muse for years.” Blaine knew it sounded corny, but he meant it, and he loved the soft blush that covered Kurt’s cheeks in reaction to his words.

Kurt wrapped his arms around his husband. “Sorry about the additional PDA, Dad. But there’s no way I’m not kissing him after a comment like that.”

Carole tucked her arm inside of Burt’s. “I think your dad understands, honey.”

Kurt let go of Blaine. “Okay. I’m good. You can continue.”

Blaine smiled at his husband. “I’ll take a raincheck for the rest. Anyway, it’s really exciting to see this move forward. Plus, I have a new book coming out in the spring! It’s an anthology of Broadway musicals from the past decade.”

Burt was impressed. “Another publication? Is this your second?”

“Third,” Blaine said, not even trying to hide how proud he was of his accomplishment. “But it’s my second anthology, and it helps my application for tenure. The more publications, the better.

Carole turned to Burt. “With the way both of their careers are moving forward, someday Blaine may be writing about Kurt!”

Kurt looked at Blaine. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be singing your songs on stage by then!”

Blaine was delighted by the idea. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful!? And I would love to be your biographer! There might be an issue with objectivity, though.”

Everyone laughed. Blaine sensed they were waiting for him to tell them more, but he felt he had said enough. Clearly Kurt didn’t think so, judging by the quizzical look on his face. “Aren’t you going to share the rest of it?”

Blaine punched Kurt lightly on the arm. “You’re terrible. Burt and Carole will think I’m bragging.”

“No we won’t!” said Burt and Carole in unison.

“I’ve been nominated for an excellence in teaching award.”

Carole’s face lit up. “Congratulations!”

“It’s wonderful,” Kurt gushed. “He’s such a star! He’s the most popular professor in the music department, and so many students try to get into his classes that they all have waiting lists. It’s basically ‘Standing Room Only’ in the lecture halls three day a week.” 

“That’s not always a good thing,” Blaine explained. “We had an incident where the fire marshal showed up and insisted that anyone not in a seat leave the hall.”

Kurt was undeterred. “Well, I wish I could draw an audience the way you do! Oh, and speaking of writing, tell them about your new blog!”

“Oh, god,” Blaine replied, embarrassed. “Honestly, Kurt. That’s still so up in the air.”

“What blog?” asked Carole.

“It began with a personal blog I started a while ago, focused on the “music” side of musical theatre, of course.”

“Of course,” Burt nodded.

“It’s taken a while to build an audience,” Blaine continued. “But it’s grown to over a thousand followers.”

Carole looked puzzled. “I don’t know anything about blogs. Is that a lot?”

“It’s a good number for a niche blog like mine. It’s getting attention from some important Broadway names. Last week, I was contacted by Paul Wontorek. He’s the editor in chief at Broadway.com. Paul follows me, and he’s invited me to write a weekly blog on his website. I’m thinking about it.”

“You two are on a roll!” Burt exclaimed. 

“He’s so good at balancing everything too,“ Kurt said proudly. “You should see what happens when he brings me to an NYU function. Everyone comes up to me to say Blaine’s wonderful.”

Blaine shook his head. “Everyone comes up to you because they want to meet Kurt Hummel, the actor.”

Kurt shrugged agreeably. “And there’s that.” They all laughed.

*  
Dinner ended early (despite Carole’s obvious intention to feed them until they were stuffed silly), so while Kurt and Blaine took care of the dirty dishes, they discussed whether it made sense to bring some of the cartons of Christmas decorations up from the basement.

Kurt wanted to get started. “If the boxes come up tonight, then tomorrow morning we can focus on doing the tree and windows.”

Blaine finished drying the last of the dinner dishes and hung the dish towel on the hook. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Kurt turned on the light at the top of the basement stairs, and started down, Blaine behind him. “Careful,” he said. “These are kind of steep.”

When they reached the bottom, they headed over to the shelves. Amidst various craft supplies and extra serving dishes were the cartons and tubs filled with garland, holiday ornaments, Christmas candles, wreaths and lights. Blaine stacked two cartons on the floor, one on top of the other, and bent down to pick them up.

“Are you sure you want to carry both?” Kurt asked. 

“I’m good,” Blaine replied. “I’ll put these in the living room and come back for more.”

“Okay. I’m going to open a few more boxes before I bring anything else up. I need to find some ribbon for the windows.”

“Deal,” said Blaine as he started up the stairs. He had barely gone halfway when one of his socked feet slipped. “Shit,” he thought to himself as he struggled to regain his balance. He tried to grab the stair rail but the boxes in his arms got in his way, and he began to fall backwards. The last thing he heard was Kurt screaming his name before he felt a jarring pain and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!
> 
> Chapter 4 will be posted later this week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventure begins!

Day 10: Light  
Day 12: Language

When Blaine woke up, he felt disoriented, and his head ached. He was in Kurt’s old bedroom, lying in bed, dressed in his pajamas, with no memory of how he got there. He was about to get up and see what was going on when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Blaine said, and froze. His voice sounded strange and unfamiliar; as if he was speaking a different language. Before he could give it any further thought, Kurt rushed into the room. 

"Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!"

Blaine was confused. Why was Kurt speaking in an English accent, why had he called him Watson, and why had he just spoken the opening line from his recent play? Something was very strange.

Blaine opened his mouth to ask Kurt what was going on, but what came out instead, in an accent that would have been right at home in central London, was “Straight away, Holmes.” 

Blaine was utterly dumbfounded. Oblivious to Blaine’s dilemma, Kurt stepped close and pulled him out of bed. Blaine stumbled and stared at Kurt, taking in his slim dark wool slacks over tapered leather boots, a button down shirt with collar and tie, and a waistcoat sporting a watch chain. It looked eerily similar to the costume Kurt had worn in the play. “My dear Watson, I can only give you a few minutes to get ready. Detective Evans is waiting in the parlor.”

When had Sam become a detective? None of this made sense.

Kurt considered Blaine carefully, his head tilted, his index finger tapping the side of his nose. “A bit unsettled this morning, are we? Why don’t I have Mrs. Hudson prepare a cup of tea while you dress. Yes, that’s the ticket!” Kurt turned on his heels and closed the door behind him.

Blaine collapsed on the bed, his head in his hands. He felt like the universe had shifted sideways. Why would Kurt call Carole “Mrs. Hudson?” Sure, that was her last name before she hyphenated it when she married Burt, but Kurt hadn’t used it in years. 

Suddenly, Blaine felt a lightbulb go on inside his head. _Method Acting_. That HAD to be it. For whatever reason, Kurt had decided to inhabit his Sherlock Holmes character again. It wasn’t the first time. Blaine remembered Kurt assuming his Holmes persona for hours at home when he was still in the play. Leave it to Kurt to just go ahead and do it on a whim for Burt and Carole’s enjoyment without letting Blaine in on the plan. Whatever. Blaine was nothing if not a good sport. He could play along.

Blaine quickly washed up, shaved and dressed. He glanced at himself in the mirror just before he walked out of the bedroom, and stopped. In his hurry to get ready, he hadn’t paid much attention to his clothes, which was very unlike him. Instead of his usual bright colors and patterns, Blaine was wearing a rather boxy greyish brown tweed suit, white shirt and grey bow tie. Too late to change, he decided. This would have to do. He turned off the light and shut the door.

Kurt was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs with a steaming cup of tea, in a pretty floral cup and saucer. Kurt smiled approvingly as he handed it to Blaine.

“Ah! Looking splendid. That’s the Watson I like to see!” Blaine glanced down, and it occurred to him how his clothes were very similar to what Dr. Watson wore in the play. Was Kurt determined to have him inhabit the Watson character as fully as Kurt’s own commitment to be Holmes? 

Kurt interrupted his train of thought. “Mrs. Hudson left milk and sugar in the parlor, along with some fresh scones. Shall we? We shouldn’t keep Detective Evans waiting any longer.”

Blaine was puzzled. “Holmes, why do you call her Mrs. Hudson?” 

Kurt looked surprised. “How else shall I refer to our landlady and housekeeper? 

Blaine was startled but quickly realized his mistake. If Kurt was fully committed to his role (and Blaine knew that Kurt did _nothing_ by halves) then he would remain in character every moment. That didn’t explain why Blaine seemed to be in character, too, but he was sure he’d figure it out soon. He dutifully followed Kurt into the living room.

*  
Detective Samuel Evans, wearing a somewhat wrinkled tan raincoat over his suit, was pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, his hands stuffed in his coat pockets. Kurt observed him for several seconds before saying, “Good morning, Detective.”

A worried Evans returned the greeting, ran his right hand through his thick blonde hair and held it out to Kurt. He looked down at Evans’s hand, hesitated, shook his head, and reached for Blaine's arm.

“Have you met my colleague and biographer, Dr. Watson?” 

Blaine preened at Kurt’s words. So he _had_ become Kurt’s biographer! Oh wait, maybe he was Holmes’s biographer instead. This was so confusing.

Evans extended his hand to Blaine. “I don’t think so. How do you do, Dr. Watson?”

Out of habit, Blaine took Evans’s hand to shake it, and instantly wished he hadn’t. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pants pocket, and began to wipe hair pomade off his hand. Kurt gave him a sympathetic look before turning back to Evans.

“Our landlady has set out scones and tea, and Dr. Watson hasn’t eaten yet. Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me about this new case that is troubling you.”

The three men served themselves, and then took their seats; Kurt in the high backed arm chair, Blaine on the sofa, and Evans alongside of him.

Evans eyed Kurt suspiciously. “How did you know I’m here about a new case, and why do you think I’m troubled?”

Kurt sighed. “My dear Detective Evans, are these questions truly necessary? You know my methods. Your socks don’t match, signifying that you dressed in haste this morning, perhaps in response to an unexpected call. There is a magnifying glass peeking out of your coat pocket. You enjoy emulating me, so you are never without your magnifying glass when you are on a case. Your detective’s notebook is peeking out of your other coat pocket. You were wearing out the carpet in front of the fireplace when Watson and I entered the room, a sign of nerves. There are at least four other clues on your person that lead me to the same conclusion, but perhaps it’s time to get to the point of your visit?”

Evans visibly deflated. “My apologies, Mr. Holmes.”

“Apology accepted, Detective.”

“I just really need your help to crack this case.”

“That’s why we are here,” Kurt observed. “Proceed.”

“McKinley’s National Show Choir Competition First Place Trophy has been stolen!”

_To be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!
> 
> The Advent words are not being used consecutively, except in the first two chapters. You’ll find that they appear out of order in different chapters, based on where they fit best.


	5. Chapter 5

Day 4: Deputy  
Day 11: Kidnap  
Day 16: Pledge

“McKinley’s National Show Choir Competition First Place Trophy has been stolen!”

Blaine gasped. Kurt remained silent but his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“I see,” Kurt replied, placing the fingertips of both hands together under his chin as he closed his eyes in concentration.

Detective Evans stared at Kurt in surprise, clearly thinking he had gone to sleep. Blaine looked at Evans face and realized the misunderstanding. “No, no,” Blaine said. “He closes his eyes like that to fully engage his thought processes. Just keep talking.”

Evans looked at Blaine a bit skeptically, but shrugged and continued.

“Before I even reached the scene of the crime, I suspected the Dalton Warblers Gang, because they stole the trophy once before. So I paid a visit to the Dalton Academy for Delinquent Boys to question the Warblers, only to find out that the group had disbanded.” 

Blaine couldn’t understand how Dalton had changed so drastically, and why “Evans” was pretending not to know him. Was _everyone_ meant to play a role? It wouldn’t have been difficult. Blaine knew how much Sam enjoyed pretending to be someone else, like John Wayne or the Blond Chameleon. In fact, he was doing a very good job, and Blaine didn’t want to spoil things. So he made a silent pledge to go along with it because actually, it was kind of fun! He watched as Evans pulled his notebook from his coat pocket and flipped through several pages before stopping. 

“The Warbler’s leader, Hunter Clarington, is currently in an in-patient rehabilitation facility, and has been for months. His lieutenant, Sebastian Smythe, is doing community service in a nursing home for a previous infraction, and has the time records to prove he was at work during the period we suspect the trophy was taken.”

Kurt’s eyes remained shut. “Which was?”

Evans consulted his notebook again. “It was last seen at 3:00 pm yesterday, inside the display case where it is normally kept. It was found to be missing first thing this morning, around 7:15 am.”

Kurt finally opened his eyes. “Where is the display case?”

“In the hallway outside the choir room. “

Kurt pulled out his pocket watch and opened it, shaking his head. “The discovery was made nearly two hours ago, before school opened for the day. The crime scene will have been adulterated by hordes of eager students on their way to and from class.” Kurt’s face darkened in disappointment. Evans understood his concern.

“No, Mr. Holmes, I’ve preserved the scene! I have a deputy standing guard, and we’ve put up barricades around the trophy case.”

“Who do you have there?”

“Sergeant Trent.”

Blaine tried hard not to look startled when he heard the name. Kurt looked relieved. “Oh, good man. “ 

Evans visibly relaxed . “Yes he is. One of our best. I did find one usable fingerprint on the glass door of the display case. We’ve sent it out for analysis and I hope to have results soon. 

Kurt rubbed his hands together, his excitement barely contained. “Let’s not waste any more time.”

Evans stood up. “Certainly, Mr. Holmes. We can go to McKinley now if you’d like. I have a car waiting.”

“Excellent,” Kurt replied, and rose from his chair. He unlocked a tall cabinet and removed several items, placing them on the sideboard. He then took a flat-bottomed leather satchel from one of the cupboards.

“Watson, would you be so kind as to put these items in the satchel while I go upstairs to get the rest? We don’t know what clues we’ll find, so it’s best to be prepared.” Kurt turned and left the room.

Evans looked at Blaine as he began to pack up the items. “I’m relieved he’s taken the case and that we’re going to McKinley together.”

Blaine gazed up at Evans. “Why? You seem capable of taking care of yourself.”

Evans looked in the direction of the stairway to see if Kurt was returning, saw he wasn’t, and stepped closer to Blaine so he could speak quietly.

“We need to meet with the school’s head, Sue Sylvester. My very first case was to investigate charges that she had abused some of her students.”

Blaine was determined to stay in character. “My god, man! What was the nature of the abuse?”

“Some students were pushed into lockers, others were tripped on the stairs. One was even shot from a cannon.”

Blaine shook his head in astonishment. “My word.” 

“Oh, that’s not the worst of it. Two students claimed she attempted to kidnap them. Said they were tricked into entering an elevator and kept there for hours.” 

Blaine’s jaw dropped. “Kidnapping? Why, that’s beyond the pale! How is she still at McKinley?”

Evans shrugged. “They said she wouldn’t let them out until they kissed. We were prepared to bring her up on charges, but a few months later, they got married, with her help. So all the charges were dismissed.”

Blaine thought the situation sounded rather familiar.

“In any event, I had to question her about each charge. She argued with me the entire time. Frankly, I find her terrifying. Let’s keep this between ourselves, but to be honest, I’m happy for Mr. Holmes to have at her this time instead of me.”

They heard footsteps, and Evans stopped talking. Blaine looked in the direction of the sound to see Kurt descend the stairs, a long coat over his arm, Holmes’s signature deer-stalker hat in one hand, and a small bag in the other. Blaine took the bag from Kurt, added its contents to the satchel, and secured the clasps. 

*  
Kurt, Blaine and Evans emerged from the house and walked towards the Detective’s car. Evans got into the front passenger seat next to the driver, Kurt and Blaine sat together in the rear.

“Sir,” said the driver, “I received a call. The fingerprint found on the display case has been identified.”

Evans smiled. “Excellent, Abrams. Whose is it?”

“Principal Sue Sylvester.” 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	6. Chapter 6

Day 15: Orange  
Day 16: Quantity  
Day 17 Realism  
Day 18: Stay

Detective Evans leaned back against the headrest of his seat. “Principal Sylvester a thief! Frankly, I didn’t expect it.”

Blaine had been staring at Abrams, the driver, but Evans’s words returned his focus to the matter at hand. He agreed with Evans, but he also knew his Sherlock Holmes stories. A single clue could lead in many different directions.

“My good fellow,” Kurt exclaimed. “It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts.”

Evans turned to look back at Kurt, a surprised expression on his face. “A fingerprint isn’t a fact?”

Kurt shook his head. “It’s a clue. There are likely others. Let’s say no more about the case until we have examined the crime scene.”

*  
The detective’s car pulled into the parking lot of McKinley High School, home of the award winning New Directions Show Choir. As they exited, Kurt urged that they proceed directly to the display case. Evans nodded in agreement. “I’ll introduce you to Trent, then I’ll go interview those who might provide us with a motive for Sue Sylvester’s actions."

Kurt shook his head. “No, Detective. Please do that later. Kindly stay with me for now. I think it will be instructive.”

The three men checked in with the security officers inside the main entrance, and then passed through several hallways on their way to the crime scene and Sergeant Trent.

Kurt looked around. “It appears that we have arrived in the midst of classes. If we work quickly, we can conclude our task before the halls become crowded and noisy again.”

Sergeant Trent was waiting for them by the display case. 

Evans greeted him. “Hello, Trent. Allow me to introduce Mr. Sherlock Holmes and his associate, Dr. Watson.”

Trent shook both men’s hands. “Good morning, gentlemen. It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Holmes.” 

Kurt smiled slightly and briefly nodded his head at the acknowledgement. At this point, Blaine was no longer surprised that Trent acted like they had never met before. Instead, he marveled at Kurt, and how he had gotten so many people to buy into his idea. Kurt was a bona fide genius. For whatever reason, he had taken the Sherlock Holmes play and added a certain degree of realism to it by including the people they had known for years. That had to be what this was all about, right? If only Blaine could figure out why!

Evans removed his notebook from his raincoat pocket, and reached inside his suit jacket for a pen. “Anything of interest to report?”

“No sir,” Trent replied. “Students have been curious, but I’ve made sure no one has approached the display case on my watch.” 

“Mr. Holmes would like to examine it.”

Trent quickly moved the barricades. “Here you go, sirs. I’ll stay over here, out of your way.”

Kurt motioned for Blaine to join him. Blaine placed the satchel containing all of Kurt’s investigative materials on the floor and opened it. Kurt bent down and retrieved a magnifying glass, a pair of gloves, a tweezer, a quantity of plain fabric squares and several glassine envelopes. He put on the gloves and placed the smaller items in his coat pockets.

Blaine took a notebook and pen from his coat pocket and positioned himself by Kurt’s side. Kurt glanced at him and smiled with amusement. “Why do I suspect that the notes you are about to take will somehow find their way into a story for Strand Magazine?”

Blaine blushed. It felt like it wasn’t the first time they were having this discussion. “Now Holmes, our audience appreciates these sorts of details. _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_ series has become quite popular. Your readers are as fascinated by your methods as I am.”

Kurt preened at the compliment. “Well, then we mustn’t disappoint them. But why your chronicles have become so popular is quite beyond my comprehension.”

Blaine was a bit taken aback by Kurt’s words. Was he joking? Kurt had always admired his writing skills. “My dear Holmes. Despite your modesty, even you must admit that your cases contain some fascinating features that are worthy of writing about.” 

Kurt looked a bit chagrined. “I meant no offense. I am exceedingly grateful for the recognition your writings have brought my way. Any small degree of fame I’ve earned is entirely through the efforts of my faithful biographer. So thank you.” Holmes paused and looked at Blaine, a gentle smile on his face. “Shall we proceed?”

“Certainly, Holmes,” Blaine replied, quite touched by Kurt’s remarks. “I appreciate your kind words.” He stood poised over his notebook, ready to record what would follow.

Using the key provided by Trent, Kurt unlocked the display case, and stopped. He turned to Evans.

“Any thoughts on why a hula girl bobble head doll is occupying pride of place where the trophy once stood?”

Blaine looked at the doll, who wore a bright orange floral top along with a traditional grass-like skirt. She was as out of place in the display case as were Kurt and Blaine’s vintage attire next to Evans and Trent.

Evans shrugged. “When I first saw the doll, I thought it might be some kind of joke left by the thief. We brushed it for fingerprints, but found nothing that could be of use.” 

Kurt nodded. “It may prove to be helpful later. We’ll move on.”

Kurt leaned into the display case and sniffed. “I detect a faint whiff of chlorine, of a quality similar to what is used in pool cleaner.” Blaine took notes, while Evans and Trent exchanged glances.

“How is it possible that your nose can distinguish between _types_ of chlorine?” Evans asked.

Kurt smiled proudly. “I have made a study of over twenty different types of chlorine products. While some require the use of a chemical reagent to be analyzed precisely, I have trained myself to detect some of the more common types through odor alone.”

Blaine observed the stunned expression on Evans and Trent’s faces. “I never get his limits,” Blaine told them. “He’s made studies on nearly one hundred topics and has committed them to memory.”

Kurt continued to examine the display case. He removed one of the fabric squares from his pocket and gently wiped the surface of the shelf where the trophy had stood. He sniffed the cloth and examined it further with his magnifying glass. “There is some residue from a cleaning product in the spot where the trophy normally sat. You can see the circular outline left by the trophy’s base.”

“Fascinating,” said Evans.

“Elementary,” Kurt replied.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting more than one chapter a day starting Saturday. The final chapter will post on Christmas Day, December 25th!

Day 21: Understand

Blaine, Detective Evans and Sergeant Trent watched Kurt with great interest as he continued his examination of the display case.

“Ah, what have we here?” Kurt exclaimed as he reached into his pocket for a glassine envelope and a pair of tweezers. He lifted a couple of tiny fibers from the display shelf and dropped them into the envelope. “These appear to be from a cloth of some kind.” 

Having concluded his search for clues inside the display case, Kurt knelt down to examine the floor in front of it. Using his tweezers, he lifted a gold-colored metal fragment and held it out for Evans to see. “What do you think, Evans?”

“Perhaps it came from the trophy?”

“It is certainly a clue,” Kurt agreed, and deposited the fragment into a fresh glassine envelope. “Perhaps we can use a laboratory here at the school to test it?” Evans motioned to Trent, who departed for the main office to obtain permission. “Oh, Trent,” Kurt called out. “Kindly tell them I’ll need glasses, a face shield, gloves, and a ventilation hood.”

Evans and Blaine looked at each other in shock. Blaine wished he and Sam (Blaine had a hard time thinking of him as “Evans”) could drop the pretense, if that’s what it was, and speak as the close friends they had always been since high school. But at this point, Blaine was having a hard time distinguishing what was real. Somehow, he had acquired an English accent and clothes that were an homage to the Dr. Watson from Kurt’s off-Broadway show, and he seemed to have become an expert on Watson and Holmes, but inside, he still felt like himself. Kurt, on the other hand, seemed to have fully transformed into Sherlock Holmes. Blaine wanted to understand why, but none of his theories seemed to fit. The laboratory request really worried Blaine. He knew his Kurt didn’t have a clue about scientific procedures or equipment, other than what they remembered from high school chemistry. What if he hurt himself? 

“What on earth are you planning to do?” Evans asked.

“Patience, my good man,” Kurt replied. “I’ll explain once we’re done here.”

Kurt knelt down again and discovered a single strand of long brown hair lying on the floor near where the metal fragment had been. Using his tweezers, Kurt placed it carefully into a third glassine envelope.

Kurt seemed fascinated by something else on the floor. “There appears to be one more item of interest,” he announced. To Blaine, they looked like random smudges.

“It’s a partial foot print,” Kurt explained. “There’s a unique pattern on the sole.”

Blaine bent over the satchel. He had an idea what Kurt might need. “Would you like tracing paper and charcoal?”

Kurt looked up and gave Blaine a grateful smile. “Excellent, Watson. Thank you.”

Blaine gave the two items to Kurt, who began to carefully trace the sole design. Blaine turned to Evans and Trent. “Holmes has written a fascinating monograph describing the various patterns used by rubber soled shoe manufacturers. It’s considered to be the last word on the subject.” 

Kurt stood up, and folded the tracing paper into his inside coat pocket. Next, he examined the display case’s keyhole with his magnifying glass. “This keyhole has been scratched,” Kurt announced. “It looks very recent.”

Evans nodded. “I had noticed that too when we were here this morning. I thought the lock might have been forced open. But how can you be sure?”

Kurt turned to Blaine. “You know my methods, Watson. Would you like to explain?”

Blaine smiled. He knew the answer would please Kurt. “There is an absence of polish that would have smoothed out and hidden the scratches. If the cleaners polish the display case once a day, the theft took place after the most recent cleaning.”

Kurt patted Blaine’s arm. “Nicely done.” Blaine grew warm at the compliment and the touch. 

Evans nodded. “I’ll be sure to find out when the trophy was last cleaned.” They heard footsteps coming towards them. It was Trent with one of the uniformed security officers. Together, they reset the barriers around the display case. The security officer took up a position next to it. Trent joined the others.

“There’s a science classroom that’s free for the next forty-five minutes. It has what you asked for, Mr. Holmes.”

“Excellent!” Kurt replied, as he removed his gloves, emptied his pockets, and handed everything to Blaine, who began to pack up the satchel. 

Kurt turned to Evans. “We should go to the classroom next.”

Evans nodded. “I had planned to take my leave and continue to follow up on the Sue Sylvester angle, but something tells me I should come with you. Trent, you should lead the way.”

*  
Once the group arrived at the science classroom, Kurt took the satchel from Blaine, and removed the glassine envelope containing the metal fragment along with a small black box. The inside of the box was heavily padded, and contained a small vial of yellow liquid. He placed the open box on the lab table. Kurt looked at the other men, delighted to have such an attentive audience. He nodded to the group.

“I want to test the gold fragment that I found on the floor in front of the display case.” Kurt pointed to the black box. “The vial in the box contains a small amount of Nitric Acid. Since it is highly caustic and corrosive, I wanted to have appropriate protection on hand. “

Evans was puzzled. “Why do you need Nitric Acid?”

Kurt put a finger to his lips to end any further discussion. Blaine removed his notebook and pen from his pocket and gave Kurt his full attention. Should anything go wrong, he would be close by to help.

Kurt took a clean glass slide from an open box on the lab table. Next, he tipped the gold fragment out of the glassine envelope and onto the center of the slide. Then he removed a folding knife from his pocket and opened it to expose a small sharp blade.

“I’m going to make a tiny mark on the surface of the fragment. “ Kurt pierced the metal with the knife. Then he put on the glasses and face shield that hung next to the sink. He reached for the switch to turn on the ventilation hood. Then he donned the gloves.

Blaine was surprised. When had Kurt learned this procedure? He had to admit that this was the kind of moment Kurt craved, with everyone focused on him.

Kurt looked up to address the group. “Now, I’ll drop a small amount of nitric acid on the mark and wait for a chemical reaction. Fake gold will immediately turn green where the acid hits it. That will confirm the fragment is from the missing trophy, which is made of gold colored metal. Real gold remains unchanged.”

Kurt applied the acid and took a step back. He reclosed the small vial, returned it to its box, and watched. Where the mark had been made, the fragment quickly turned green. Kurt carefully rinsed off the fragment and the slide, and removed the gloves, face shield and glasses. He returned the fragment and slide to the glassine envelope and turned off the ventilator hood. Blaine put the black box and glassine envelope in the satchel. 

Evans spoke first. “I’m impressed Mr. Holmes, but what does it prove? We know the trophy was removed from the display case. If it was damaged during the removal, it stands to reason that it might have gotten chipped and that’s what fell to the floor.”

“It may lead us to the thief.”

Evans was not convinced. “But Mr. Holmes, we already know who the thief is! It’s Sue Sylvester!” 

Kurt gave Evans an enigmatic smile. “Perhaps, perhaps not.” 

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to post today (sorry) but definitely two chapters on Sunday!

Day 13: Momentum

Blaine and Sergeant Trent exited the lab and paused in the hallway, waiting for Detective Sam Evans and Kurt to follow. They were still inside, discussing the next step in the investigation. “Who have you already interviewed?” Kurt asked.

Evans consulted his notebook. “Emma Pillsbury and Will Schuster. That leaves Sue Sylvester. I want to be sure we interview her together.”

Kurt nodded in agreement. “Precisely. I have a few follow up questions for Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester. May I have your permission to speak with them? In your presence, of course.”

“Not necessary, Mr. Holmes. I’ll just have Trent accompany you. I need to take care of some business with the head of the school security force.” With that, Evans left, and Kurt joined Blaine and Trent in the hallway.

“Very well,” Kurt replied. “Trent, can you direct us to Mr. Schuester first?”

Trent looked pleased, probably because he would no longer have to stand guard by the display case. “Certainly, sirs. I was with Detective Evans earlier this morning when he interviewed each of them. Follow me.” 

Kurt turned to Blaine. “Mr. Schuester is the director of the New Directions Show Choir.” Blaine pretended to act like this was new information.

The choir room was empty except for a curly haired gentleman in a sweater vest standing next to a white board with the words “Boy Bands Inspiration Week” written on it. He looked up when he heard footsteps.

“May I help you?”

“Apologies for interrupting,” said Kurt, stepping forward. “My name is Sherlock Holmes and this is my associate, Dr. Watson. Sergeant Trent is accompanying us.”

“I’m Will Schuester.” The three shook hands.

Blaine had gotten beyond staring at familiar faces who stared back at him with blank expressions. “We’re here with Detective Evans,” Blaine explained. “We’re investigating the missing trophy.”

“You mean the _stolen_ trophy,” Schuester said bitterly.

“When did you last see it?” Kurt asked.

Schuester sat down on the piano bench, his back bowed in defeat. “Yesterday afternoon. I had passed by the display case, noticed that the trophy looked dusty and a little tarnished, and asked one of our maintenance staff to polish it. They clean the exterior of the display case but not what’s inside.”

Blaine looked at Kurt. The cleaning product had been one of the clues!

If Kurt was equally elated, he didn’t show it. “May I ask with whom you spoke?”

“Puck. Sorry, Noah Puckerman. He’s a former student of mine who works in the maintenance department. His usual assignment is the gymnasium and pool, but I just happened to see him.”

Kurt said nothing, just gazed at Schuester, who became agitated.

“No! Puck is not a suspect! He didn’t steal the trophy!”

“How can you be certain?” Blaine asked.

“Because Emma saw it after Puck had left.”

“And who is Emma?” Kurt asked patiently.

Schuester paused before answering. “She’s the guidance counselor.” There was another pause. “She’s also my wife.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pursue that line of questioning further. “What is Sue Sylvester’s relationship with the show choir?”

“She hates us!” Schuester exclaimed, his face reddening. “She wants to shut us down. We had just begun to build momentum heading into our competitions. Sue’s jealous of our success and stole the trophy just to spite us.”

Blaine glanced at Kurt. They already had the fingerprint that connected Sue Sylvester to the trophy, and now they had a possible motive. But how did the other clues fit in with this scenario? He hoped Kurt would have the answer. 

Three bells chimed, followed by the sound of doors opening and chatter in the halls. 

Schuester stood up. “My students will be arriving soon. Are we finished?”

Kurt nodded and shook Schuester’s hand. “We won’t take up any more of your time. Thank you.”

Once they were back in the hallway, Kurt turned to Blaine and Trent. “Shall we find Ms. Pillsbury?”

“This way, gentlemen,” Trent replied. “Ms. Pillsbury’s office is down the hall.”

Blaine had fond memories of Ms. Pillsbury, who was kind and always meant well but wasn’t very helpful. He didn’t expect she would acknowledge him or Kurt as people she knew. No one had thus far.

As they approached the glass-walled office, Blaine remembered how intimidating it used to be to go there, since every student passing by could see who was inside and harass you later. Blaine was pulled back into the present when Ms. Pillsbury looked up and beckoned them to enter. She rose from her chair as they walked through the door. 

“Good morning,” Kurt said as they all stepped inside. “I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my associate, Dr. Watson. I believe you may have already met Sergeant Trent?”

“Yes, hello. I’m Emma Pillsbury.” She stood with her arms at her sides, rather than extend a hand in greeting. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Thank you,” said Kurt as they all took seats at the round table. “We’re assisting with the investigation. We just have a few additional questions regarding the missing trophy.”

“Oh, of course,” Ms. Pillsbury replied nervously, twisting her hands in her lap.

Blaine briefly glanced at the shelves of pamphlets on the wall next to him. He tried hard to ignore the one titled _Role Playing: Fine for the Stage, But Maybe Not So Much In Real Life._

Kurt was eager to cut to the chase. “Ms. Pillsbury, we’re told that you saw the trophy in the display case yesterday afternoon.”

Ms. Pillsbury’s voice dropped to the lowest of whispers. “Yes.”

“What was the condition of the trophy when you saw it?”

Ms. Pillsbury’s face turned very red and she started to cry. “I didn’t mean to scratch it! I was just trying to get it cleaned up after Noah Puckerman spit on it!”

“What?” said the three men in unison.

Trent turned to Kurt and Blaine and said quietly. “She wasn’t asked earlier about the condition of the trophy, only when she had last seen it.”

Kurt leaned across the table to pat Ms. Pillsbury’s arm but thought better of it and pulled back. She reached for a cloth and a small bottle of polish sitting on one of the shelves. Blaine immediately thought of one of the other clues. He glanced at Kurt, who was looking at Ms. Pillsbury with the utmost compassion and concern.

“I am very sorry for having upset you. It was not my intention. It’s fine to take the cloth and polish if they give you comfort. Do you think you can tell us what you meant by Mr. Puckerman spitting on the trophy?”

Ms. Pillsbury clutched the items in her lap. “Thank you, she said softly, sounding calmer. “I was walking past the display case, on my way to see my husband. I saw Noah wiping the trophy. Then he spit on it, and continued to wipe it.” Ms. Pillsbury shuddered at the memory. “I was horrified. I sent him on his way, and took the cloth and bottle of spray cleaner from my purse. I always carry it with me for emergencies. I may have cleaned the trophy too roughly?” Her eyes started to water, but she took a breath and let it out slowly. “Some polish got on the shelf, and I inadvertently scratched the trophy with my ring. I was terribly upset, because I know how much that trophy means to Will. But Principal Sylvester came by and offered to help.”

At the mention of Principal Sylvester’s name, the three men exchanged looks. 

Kurt asked the question on all of their minds. “What kind of help?”

_To be continued_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of two chapters being posted today.

Day 20: Transaction  
Day 22: Vegetarian

At the mention of Principal Sylvester’s name, the three men exchanged looks. 

Kurt asked the question on all of their minds. “What kind of help?”

Ms. Pillsbury shook her head. “I don’t know. Once she saw how upset I was, she sent me to the faculty lounge to rest for a few minutes. I didn’t see her after.”

“So your husband is not aware that the trophy sustained some small damage?”

“No. Unless Sue told him, but she promised she wouldn’t.”

Blaine thought they were done, but Kurt had one more question. “Ms. Pillsbury, this may seem an odd question, but is there anyone associated with the New Directions or the trophy who has long, straight dark brown hair?”

Ms. Pillsbury smiled. “Well, certainly not me,” as she touched her own hair, which was red in color. “I’m a ginger! But Rachel Berry comes to mind. She was a member of New Directions when she was a student here, and she’s now the drama teacher. Her office is not far from the choir room. She probably passes by the display case every day. Then again, so do hundreds of students.”

Blaine thought back to when he and Kurt had been high school students. There had certainly been enough drama with Rachel over the years. If they really were in some sort of play, Kurt had done a brilliant job by casting her. 

Kurt turned to Trent. “Perhaps we can settle the matter by paying Ms. Berry a visit. Do you think Detective Evans would mind, especially since he hasn’t questioned her yet?”

“It should be fine” Trent replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know we were there, and I’ll make a full report of anything notable.”

“Let’s go to her now.” Kurt softened his voice as he looked at Ms. Pillsbury. “You’ve been extraordinarily helpful. Again, my apologies for any unpleasantness. Will you be all right? Shall we ask Mr. Schuester to come to you?”

Ms. Pillsbury shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Good day,” Kurt gave a small bow. “Gentlemen, time to move on.”

*  
Trent led them to Rachel Berry’s office and knocked on her door. “Come in,” a voice trilled from inside. 

“Now who are these three handsome men in my doorway?” Rachel asked as she rose from her desk and stepped forward to shake each of their hands. Blaine was disappointed that she didn’t seem to recognize either him or Kurt. They all looked somewhat uncomfortable at her flirtatious greeting, but each shook her hand and bowed as introductions were made. 

“So how may I help you, gentlemen?” Rachel asked, as she coquettishly tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder. Blaine and Trent waited for Kurt to speak, but he said nothing. Blaine looked at Kurt to see him staring with interest at the floor. Blaine coughed gently. “Holmes?”

Kurt emerged from his reverie. “Oh, I beg your pardon.” 

Rachel smiled indulgently. “It’s quite alright. It’s a bit cramped in here for four. Perhaps you all might join me in the teacher’s lounge for some tea with Meyer lemon and honey? I find it very soothing.” She turned to Blaine and fluttered her eyelashes. “Or if only one of you need to question me, perhaps it might be you, Dr. Watson? You could join me for lunch! I bring my own, of course, because I’m a vegetarian and what’s served in the cafeteria simply isn’t healthy. Would you like to share mine with me? You have a vaguely Eurasian look that is very attractive!”

Blaine swallowed hard, and repeated “Holmes!” but this time with some urgency. Rachel hadn’t changed a bit. Unfortunately.

Suddenly, bells sounded as the fire alarms went off throughout the building. Students began to spill out into the halls, talking loudly as they moved quickly to the exits. Rachel opened the desk drawer to take her purse, and reached for her coat. At the same time, Kurt bent down to pick up something on the floor. He reached into his jacket for an empty glassine envelope, and placed the item inside.

Rachel was apologetic. “Sorry gentlemen, but I have to go outside and meet up with my homeroom class. She gave Blaine a disappointed look, and walked out the door. He and Kurt followed Trent in the opposite direction to the front of the building.

Blaine was curious to know what Kurt had found on the floor of Rachel’s office. “What did you put in the envelope?” 

“Ah, that may prove very useful. When Ms. Berry tossed her hair, I saw one strand drift to the ground. I took it to see if it matches the one I found on the floor by the display case. I’ll have to examine it under a microscope to be sure.”

“You never got to ask her about the trophy,” Blaine observed.

Kurt nodded. “Yes, the fire alarm interfered. I may have to return and finish up. Care to accompany me if I do? I promise to make sure it remains strictly a business transaction.”

Blaine emphatically shook his head. “If you won’t mind, no. I feel like I had a lucky escape as it is.”

Kurt chuckled. “Ah, Watson. Always the lady’s man.”

Blaine was about to strenuously object when there was a brief sound of static from the public address system followed by a tone. “This is Principal Sylvester. This is only a drill, but you must proceed to the exits. In ten minutes, you’ll hear the all clear sound, and can then return to your classrooms. I expect your full cooperation! Anyone foolish enough to disobey me will do mandatory planks in the gym for an hour. Have a nice day!!”

Kurt shook his head. “Is this just a coincidence, or is it connected in some way to the investigation?” 

Blaine turned the idea over in his head. Was the fire drill a deliberate attempt by Principal Sylvester to thwart their investigation? It had certainly stopped the questioning of Rachel. And what was the motivation behind Principal Sylvester’s kindness to Ms. Pillsbury, who was married to Will Schuester, her arch enemy? He hoped Kurt could sort it all out.

Detective Evans was waiting just outside the main entrance. “Temporary inconvenience,” he told them. “We’ll go back inside as soon as they sound the bells.”

Kurt crossed his arms. “It’s time we interviewed Principal Sylvester.”

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be three more chapters following this one. It should be complete by Christmas Day, December 25th.

Day 14: Negligence  
Day 23: Wire

Sergeant Trent stayed back, while Kurt, Blaine and Detective Sam Evans walked together towards Principal Sue Sylvester’s office. Blaine wondered if Becky still worked there, but the secretary at the front desk was unfamiliar. She greeted them, picked up the phone to let Principal Sylvester know of their arrival, and told them to go right in. Blaine watched Sam take a deep breath. He was clearly not looking forward to this visit.

Evans did the introductions and the three men took their seats. Blaine looked quickly around the office. He noticed a small group of bobble head dolls on a shelf behind the desk, with an empty space between two of them, as if one had been removed. He turned to Kurt to get his attention, but Kurt gave him a quick nod, acknowledging that he had seen it, too. 

Evans was about to speak, but Principal Sylvester wasted no time in getting the upper hand.

“Look at the three of you!” she said scornfully. “ ’Detective’ Evans. You look and act like a Columbo wannabee.” Evans sank back in his chair, crushed. 

Principal Sylvester turned to Kurt next. “And you, Mr. Fancy Dress Bob Cratchett with a weird hat, did your time machine make a wrong turn?” Kurt said nothing but raised an eyebrow. 

Blaine held his breath. He knew he was next. “And YOU call yourself a writer? I’ve read your stuff in The Strand Magazine. The advertisements are more compelling than your stories.”

Blaine looked down at his lap to compose himself. Well, THAT was a low blow. It was a lot better when she used to refer to him as a young Burt Reynolds. But Blaine reminded himself that this might be a different Sue Sylvester. She showed no sign that she recognized any of them. 

Kurt had remained calm until Principal Sylvester criticized Blaine. He stood up, his eyes flashing. “Hurling insults doesn’t help you, nor does it help solve the case.”

But Principal Sylvester wasn’t finished with her rant. “The trophy would still be there if it wasn’t for Schuester’s negligence.” 

Evans shook his head. “No Principal Sylvester. There was no negligence. The trophy was in a locked display case.”

“Pshaw,” she replied dismissively. “Give me a wire and I could pick that lock in seconds.”

Kurt looked her in the eye. “Did you?”

She glared right back. “I believe you found my fingerprint.”

Blaine watched Kurt, who seemed unafraid of a little verbal sparing. “We did,” he said quietly.

Principal Sylvester smirked and stood up. “You got me then,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She turned to Evans and placed her hands out in front of her. “I did it. So how about some handcuffs?”

Kurt arched an eyebrow in disbelief. “I don’t think so.” Principal Sylvester’s jaw dropped and she sat back down in her chair. Then her eyes narrowed. She leaned forward towards Kurt. “Prove I didn’t do it.”

Kurt was unperturbed. “This is still an active investigation. We might have been done by now if not for the fire drill. I suppose that was your doing?”

Evans’s face turned red. “You deliberately interfered with the investigation!”

“Did I now?” Principal Sylvester sneered.

Kurt was focused on the wall shelf. “You seem to be missing something.”

Principal Sylvester followed Kurt’s gaze, and looked puzzled for only a moment. “You mean my Hawaiian girl doll. She’s in the display case.”

“Did you put her there?”

There was the barest of hesitation before Principal Sylvester responded. “Of course.” 

“Why?”

“I did it to mock Schuester.”

Kurt stood up and turned to Evans. “We’re finished here.” Evans gave him a confused look. So did Blaine. Hadn’t Principal Sylvester just confessed to the crime? But Kurt was already walking out the door.

Principal Sylvester rose from her chair and called after him. “Well Mr. Sherlock Holmes or whatever your name is, don’t be too sure.”

Blaine kept expecting Kurt to explain what had just happened, but he remained silent as the three of them walked along the corridor towards the main entrance. 

Evans was annoyed. “You need to help me understand why I shouldn’t arrest Principal Sylvester when she’s confessed to the crime, we have her fingerprint that puts her at the crime scene, she’s admitted to breaking into the display case to place the doll inside, and there’s evidence that she attempted to interfere with the investigation.” 

“My dear Evans,” said Kurt soothingly. “I fully understand your concerns, but based on my review of the evidence and our interviews thus far, it appears Principal Sylvester has _not_ committed any crime.”

Blaine could barely contain himself. “But the trophy, Holmes!”

Kurt shook his head. “I‘ll grant you that she’s a formidable adversary. With her, it’s a case of ‘the best defense is a good offense.’ But to be honest, I believe she is covering for someone else.” 

Both Blaine and Evans looked at Kurt in surprise. 

“It is too soon to say who it is just yet. I need to find the person who was at the display case wearing the rubber soled shoes, and learn who placed yesterday’s emergency call to report the stolen trophy to the police.”

Evans consulted his notebook. “I have the information about the call. I wasn’t able to do the interview yet because the person wasn’t available this morning. Our records show the call was made by the history and government teacher, Ms. Santana Lopez-Pierce. She’s on my list of people to see.”

Kurt could barely suppress his excitement. “Shall we try to find her now?”

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post Chapter 12 later today, and Chapter 13 (the conclusion!), tomorrow on December 25, Christmas Day.

Day Four: Paper

The main office staff at McKinley had informed Detective Sam Evans that Ms. Santana Lopez-Pierce had a free period that was ending in thirty minutes, and then would be teaching until lunchtime. But when he, Kurt and Blaine arrived at her office, it was empty.

Another teacher passed them in the hallway. “Are you with the police? Are you looking for Santana?”

Kurt bowed. “Yes, thank you. Would you know where she is?”

The teacher nodded. “She usually spends her break with her wife Brittany. She’s the cheerleading coach. Her office is near the gym. Go down the hall to the end, turn left, and it’s the last door on the right.”

Blane shook his head. So Santana and Brittany were part of this too? How on earth had Kurt managed to get so many of their old classmates to play these roles? There had to be something else going on, especially when he considered how no one had broken yet and acted in any way like they knew him and Kurt.

Evans knocked on a door labeled Brittany Lopez-Pierce. Brittany opened it, dressed in a red and white warm up suit, her blond hair pulled up in a ponytail. Blaine noticed that Kurt immediately looked at her feet, which were clad in white athletic shoes. Behind her was Santana, her long dark brown hair flowing loosely to her shoulders. Blaine thought of the strand of hair that had been found in front of the display case. Could Holmes say with certainty that it belonged to Rachel? What if it belonged to Santana?

Evans made the necessary introductions. Brittany looked around her office before shrugging. “I’m afraid I don’t have enough chairs for all of us. I think I’ll sit on the floor. Who wants to join me?” 

The three men looked at each other and at Santana, who smiled at her wife and said, “It’s Britt’s office, gentlemen. She sits where she feels like sitting.”

Kurt cleared his throat and looked at Brittany. “Ms. Lopez-Pierce,” he began.

“Please call me Brittany.” She reached up and tugged Kurt’s hand. “Sit down next to me.”

Kurt hesitated for only a moment before joining Brittany on the floor.

“This is wonderful,” exclaimed Brittany. She took Kurt’s hand in both of hers, and looked at him intently. “Did you know you’re a unicorn?”

Kurt looked startled, and turned to Santana for help. Blaine found it mildly charming, in a way. Santana shrugged. “Brittany has many gifts, and believes in the spiritual world.”

Brittany beamed at her wife, and looked up at Blaine, taking his hand next. “You should sit down, too. It’s been a while since I’ve met a familiar. Do you enjoy being with the unicorn?”

Evans looked suspiciously at everyone else in the room. “Um, what is going on? What is “a familiar?”

While Blaine mulled over just what kind of answer he could possibly give, Kurt answered Evans’s question. “It’s a spirt companion or attendant. They frequently but not always take on animal form.”

Brittany clapped her hands, obviously pleased with Kurt’s answer. “Exactly,” she said. “You are an exceptional unicorn!”

Kurt chuckled and bowed his head. “Thank you.”

Brittany sat back against her desk. “Unicorn, why do you care about shoes and hair when you are happier in your garden, eating grass and apple pieces, and being with your familiar?”

Kurt looked at her curiously, but Blaine was concerned. How did she know these things? How might this affect the investigation?

Kurt took both of Brittany’s hands in his. “My dear lady,” he said. “I can see I must be completely honest with you. I’m a consulting detective, and I need to determine what has happened to the New Directions’ National Trophy.”

“I know,” Brittany replied. She lifted her right foot so that Kurt could see the sole. “Do you like this pattern? There’s such a good drawing of it on the paper in your pocket.”

Santana stepped forward and sat down between Brittany and Blaine. “Britt, honey, you need to be careful what you say to the police.”

Brittany nodded. “You, too. He wants one of your hairs.”

Blaine flinched at the look Santana gave Kurt. “You want WHAT?” 

Kurt colored slightly. “I’m trying to solve a possible crime, madam. I need your help to do that.”

Santana sighed. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? This is all about the missing trophy, and everyone thinks Principal Sylvester took it.”

“But,” Brittany began before her wife hushed her.

“Please let me finish. I had nothing to do with this, other than support Britt. I found her at the display case yesterday, placing the bobble head doll inside, in the space where the trophy usually sits. I asked a few people, and no one seemed to know what had happened to the trophy. But it means everything to Mr. Schuester and the New Directions, so I called the police to report it stolen.” Santana looked at Brittany. “You tell them the rest.”

“It was the end of the day,” Brittany began, “And I was meeting Santana so we could go home together. I passed the display case and noticed the trophy was missing. I thought someone had borrowed it for some reason. I keep the doll in my pocket, because she gets cold. She’s from Hawaii, you see, and doesn’t have a coat. But I thought she might enjoy looking out on things again, and the case was unlocked, so I just put her there. She really likes it, by the way.”

“Where did you buy the doll?” Kurt asked.  
.  
Brittany turned to look at him. “Well, that’s just a silly question, isn’t it? You know that Principal Sylvester gave it to me. I told her I liked it.”

Kurt had another question. “Are you and Principal Sylvester good friends?”

“Oh, yes! She made me coach of the Cheerios a few years ago. That’s why I wear the same work out suit she did when she was coach. With great power comes great responsibility.”

At that moment, three bells went off to signify the end of the instruction period. Students could be heard in the halls. Santana got to her feet, and pulled Brittany up after her. “We have classes to teach. Time for us to go.”

“Oh wait,” said Brittany. She reached over and pulled on a single strand of Santana’s hair.

“Hey, that hurts!”

Brittany smiled and handed the strand to Kurt. Then she turned to Blaine. “You’re worried. Don’t be,” she assured him. “Mr. Holmes will solve the case and everything will be fine.”

That’s not exactly what I’m worried about, Blaine thought. Brittany was certainly as eccentric as she used to be. He wondered how she was as the cheerleading coach. 

Brittany started laughing. “I’m an awesome cheerleading coach and my teams have been state champions three years in a row!”

Blaine was astonished. Wow, can she read minds? He would have loved to ask her why Kurt had thrown himself and their friends into a Sherlock Holmes adventure, but she was gone.

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more chapter after this one, and the fic will be complete. It will be posted on Tuesday, December 25th.

Day 24: Yoke

An hour later, Kurt and Blaine stood outside the main entrance of McKinley High School, their work done. Kurt had interviewed Rachel Berry for a second time, without Blaine, but with Detective Sam Evans present. As soon as the interview was over, they had conferred briefly. Then Evans had dashed out of the building, and gotten into a patrol car. Kurt checked his watch. “Evans asked Abrams to bring us home. He should be here with the car any minute now.”

Blaine noted Kurt’s smug smile.

“You seem very pleased with yourself. I take it you’ve solved the case?”

Kurt nodded. “The second interview with Ms. Berry was _very_ instructive. A pity you didn’t join us.”

Blaine smiled. “As much as I would have liked to have been there, I’m quite sure I would have been a distraction, given Ms. Berry’s stated preference for me. It sounds like you obtained the information you needed?”

“Quite. Evans has gone off to confirm a few matters. The plan is for him to join us at our home as soon as he’s finished. Then we can discuss the case fully and call it closed. I promise I’ll mention all the details that you are so fond of for your stories.”

Blaine was pleased that Kurt had notched another victory as Sherlock Holmes. “Congratulations, Holmes. Another achievement for you!”

Kurt bowed his head at the compliment. “I hope Mrs. Hudson has done some baking today. Cupcakes or a nice cheesecake would suit me down to the ground.”

*  
Once home, Kurt had gone straight to his room to examine the hair strands under his microscope. Ten minutes later, he found Blaine in the parlor, assembling his notes from today. 

“Watson! It is as I hoped. The hair strand I found in front of the trophy case is an exact match to Rachel Berry’s!”

Blaine startled at the news. Did that mean Rachel had stolen the trophy? 

“Holmes! If that’s the result, does it mean we have a new suspect in the case?”

Kurt chuckled. “No, and I fear I’m getting ahead of myself.” He consulted his watch. “Evans should be here soon. I don’t want to keep you in suspense for too long.”

Just then, Mrs. Hudson entered the room, wearing a sweater decorated with a pretty pattern around the yoke, and holding a tray of mini-cupcakes. Kurt clapped his hands. “Mrs. Hudson, you have outdone yourself! These look wonderful!!”

Mrs. Hudson blushed. “Thank you kindly, sir. I hope you, Dr. Watson and your guest enjoy them. Now I’ll go put up the tea.” 

Blaine watched her leave the room. The cupcakes looked delicious, but seeing Carole reminded him of how much he missed the real Carole, who enjoyed spending time with him and having long chats over coffee in the kitchen.

When the doorbell rang, Kurt shot up from his chair. “That must be Evans. I’ll let him in.”

A few moments later, Kurt and Evans entered the room. Evans was smiling broadly. “Good to see you again, Dr. Watson. Everything checked out perfectly, Mr. Holmes! I’ve closed the case, and notified McKinley High School. They’re very pleased.”

Kurt rubbed his hands together, clearly satisfied with the good news. “Excellent, Evans. Mrs. Hudson has baked a tray of her delightful cupcakes, and tea will be served momentarily. Time to celebrate.

The three men sat down to enjoy their tea and sweets. Once they were satisfied, Kurt turned to Blaine.

“My dear Watson, you have been most patient, and we don’t want to keep you in suspense any longer. Evans, may I provide the chronology start to finish?”

Evans nodded. “That would be great Mr. Holmes. It gives me an opportunity to double check my notes for my report. May I include your name when I write it?”

“No, Evans. The work is its own reward.”

“Very well, sir, and thank you.”

Kurt settled back in his armchair, crossed one leg over the other, and brought his fingertips together under his chin.

“This has been a most interesting case. Watson, how often have I said that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, _however improbable_ , must be the truth?”

Blaine smiled. “Many times, Holmes.”

“Never has that been truer than in this case. Here is my solution.

“It began when Mr. Schuester gave Noah Puckerman the assignment to clean the Nationals Trophy. Mr. Puckerman had a small bottle of pool cleaner that contained chlorine with him. He thought he would use it on the trophy. Immediately, the shiny metal surface turned hazy. He spat on the trophy and continued to wipe, thinking his spit would restore the shine.”

“At that moment, he was seen by Emma Pillsbury, who was horrified. She suffers from a nervous disorder, and this triggered an episode. She dismissed Mr. Puckerman, opened her purse, and pulled out a cloth and a small bottle of spray cleaner. She began to vigorously clean the trophy, but in her haste, got a small quantity of the spray cleaner on the back of the display case shelf. She also inadvertently scratched the trophy.”

Blaine had taken out his pad and pen when Kurt started speaking, but stopped to fully focus on Kurt’s explanation. “Remarkable,” Blaine exclaimed.

Kurt smiled and continued. “At that moment, Principal Sylvester walked by and observed Ms. Pillsbury in a panic. She was scared that the choir director, Mr. Schuester, who is her husband, would find out what had happened, and be upset with her. Principal Sylvester convinced Ms. Pillsbury to say nothing, and promised she would not tell Mr. Schuester. Then they left.”

“Ms. Berry passed the display case next, and noticed the mark on the trophy. Very surprised, she used a hairpin in lieu of a key to unlock the case, leaving scratch marks in the process. She picked up the trophy to examine it more closely, and was so shocked by the damage that it slipped out of her hand and fell flat onto the shelf. A tiny piece of the gold-colored metal chipped off and flew up, landing in Ms. Berry’s hair. Not realizing what it was, she brushed her hair back with her hand, and the tiny chip fell to the floor, along with one of her hair strands. Ms. Berry decided to take the trophy and have it repaired.”

Blaine was astounded. “So it was never stolen!”

Evans nodded. “We learned the truth when we had the second interview with Ms. Berry this afternoon. She was unaware of the call to the police, and she had never told anyone what she did. My apologies for interrupting, Mr. Holmes.” 

Kurt looked a bit annoyed, but continued. “The next person to approach the display case was Brittany Lopez-Pierce, who noticed the trophy was missing. At this point, the case was unlocked, and she placed the bobble doll in its place. What’s fascinating is that Mr. Schuester, who set this case in motion by asking Mr. Puckerman to clean the trophy, was completely unaware of his role. He now knows the trophy is secure.”

Evans turned to Kurt. “I visited the repair shop to confirm it’s there. It will be ready at the end of the week.”

Blaine was still puzzled. “But why did Principal Sylvester confess if she had nothing to do with it?”

“Sue was protecting Ms. Pillsbury and Ms. Brittany Lopez-Pierce,” Kurt explained. “She is very fond of both, and has great empathy for Ms. Pillsbury. She understands suffering.”

“Astounding,” Blaine exclaimed in awe.

Kurt’s face colored slightly, and he shook his head, smiling. “Elementary, my dear Anderson.” There was a pause. “Blaine?”

_To be continued…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are very important to me. I would love to hear from you!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is complete! I hope you've had as much fun reading it as I've had writing it. Thank you for coming along for the ride on this Klaine/Sherlock Holmes mash-up! Huge thanks to flowerfan, my beta, my dear friend, and the one who happily pushed me into resurrecting this two year old idea from the ashes.

Day 24: Santa

“Blaine? Blaine, honey, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

Blaine felt like he was swimming up from deep water. Everything seemed really heavy and slow. He tried opening his eyes but the light was too bright and it hurt. His head ached, he was nauseous, and the left side of his body was sore. What had happened to him? He would be panicking, except that was Kurt’s voice next to him, and Kurt holding his hand tightly. He tried squeezing back, but he seemed to have lost most of his strength. A lighter press would have to do.

He smelled Kurt’s cologne, and then felt his lips on his cheek. Maybe he should try opening his eyes again. 

There was his husband, his face bent down close to his, with red-rimmed eyes and a very scared expression on his face. That was a look that never failed to gut Blaine. All he wanted to do was make it go away.

“Hey,” Blaine said softly. “What happened?”

Kurt swallowed and gripped Blaine’s hand more tightly. Blaine tried to lift his other arm to pull Kurt to him, which was when he realized it was tethered to an IV. That frightened him.

“Kurt! Am I okay?”

Someone else came into view, a woman wearing a white medical coat.

“Hi, Blaine. I’m Dr. Abutra. I’m a neurologist, and you’re at Lima Memorial Hospital. You’re going to be fine. Nothing’s broken. You hurt your head, and we’re treating you for a mild concussion. You also have bruising along your left arm and ribs. Do you remember what happened to you?”

Blaine’s thoughts seemed all jumbled. He had memories of Kurt as Sherlock Holmes and him as Dr. Watson (why was he Dr. Watson? Kurt had been in that play, not him!), and somehow, most of the people they knew in Lima had been involved, too. 

Blaine closed his eyes again. “I’m trying to remember but everything seems all mixed up. I think it’s making me feel worse. Ugh, my head hurts, and my stomach...”

“That’s okay,” Dr. Abutra said soothingly. “That’s a normal response to a concussion. No more questions for a while, then. Try not to think too hard about anything right now. Do you meditate?”

Blaine started to nod but doing that hurt, too. “Yes.”

Dr. Abutra looked pleased. “Good. Concentrate for now on emptying your mind and breathing slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth.” Blaine immediately began to do just that, and found it helped.

Kurt still looked worried. “Can I stay with him?”

Dr. Abutra nodded. “Of course. But it is starting to get late. We’re going to keep him overnight for observation. Right now, the best thing for him is rest. So you should decide if you want to go home at some point, and come back in the morning, or stay here. Blaine, I’ll be back to check on you later.”

Once they were alone, Blaine pressed Kurt’s hand again. “My eyes are closed because the light hurts, but I’m awake. You can talk to me.”

Kurt leaned down to kiss Blaine again, and he could feel the wetness from Kurt’s tears. 

“Please don’t cry. You heard what the doctor said. I’m going to be fine.”

Kurt wiped his eyes with a tissue. “You have no idea how scared we were. They couldn’t tell us if you were badly hurt or not until maybe a half hour ago, when all the test and scan results came back.”

Blaine shifted slightly on the mattress to get more comfortable. “How long have I been like this?”

“Maybe four hours? I don’t think you’ve been unconscious the whole time though. The doctors and nurses said you were mumbling a lot. They actually got concerned, thinking you were hallucinating.” 

Kurt giggled despite himself. “They said they couldn’t make out most of what you were saying, but one word you kept repeating was ‘Holmes.’ They thought that maybe you were a builder or worked in real estate until I figured out you must have been talking about my play.”

Blaine groaned. “Oh my god. It was like I had entered a parallel universe. We and our friends all existed but somehow did different things? You and I had English accents, I was Watson, and I don’t even think we were married to each other. Plus Rachel made a pass at me.”

“No way!” Kurt exclaimed. But then he looked thoughtful. “You know, for Rachel, that’s not a surprise.”

Blaine groaned again, but this time from the headache and nausea. “I think I may have just pushed my brain too hard. I’m going to do the breathing exercises again.”

Kurt sighed. “Oh sweetie. Let me go outside for a minute to speak to Dad and Carole while you rest. I’ll fill them in, and we’ll figure out what we’re doing. I’m the only one they’re allowing to see you for now. I’ll be back.” Kurt leaned down and kissed Blaine again, but on the lips.

Blaine smiled, keeping his eyes closed. 

*

The next morning, Kurt was at his husband’s side, both listening to the nurse’s discharge instructions.

“Blaine, for the next few days, you need to take it easy. That means you want to limit your thinking/remembering activities to prevent your symptoms from getting worse.”

Blaine and Kurt nodded. That was easy, Blaine thought. He could do that.

“You also need to avoid any strenuous physical activity.”

Blaine and Kurt exchanged glances. Did that mean no sex?? 

The nurse caught on and smiled at them. “I’m sure you can figure out how to be intimate in gentle ways. It’s only for a few days. The rule of thumb for any activity is, if the activity worsens your symptoms, don’t do it until you can tolerate it. If your symptoms don’t worsen, then the activity is okay. Also get plenty of nighttime sleep. Give your body what it needs to heal.”

They talked for a few more minutes. Then Blaine signed off on his discharge papers. The nurse gave him the written instructions to take home. “The wheelchair attendant will be here in a few minutes to take you out. Kurt, do you need to bring your car around?”

“No, my dad will be waiting for us at the front entrance. I just have to text him when we’re ready to leave.”

The nurse smiled, and shook their hands. “Feel better soon, Blaine. You still have a few days to decorate the tree and get ready for Christmas.”

Kurt shook his head. “Blaine’s not doing anything with tree decorations except supervise from the sofa.”

Blaine and the nurse both laughed. “Sounds like a plan,” she said. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

Once they were alone, Kurt lifted Blaine’s hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better today.”

“Much better,” Blaine replied. “I’m glad I have pain killers for the headache and my side, but I’m a lot less groggy today. I still can’t get over that crazy dream I had.

Kurt put both of Blaine’s hands in his. “If it’s going to be a crazy dream, at least I’m glad I was in it.”

Blaine nodded. “Oh, you were brilliant. Sherlock Holmes saved the day for McKinley High School, and I got to be your faithful Dr. Watson.”

“Now you’ll have a story to tell every Christmas.”

Blaine pulled Kurt to him. “Speaking of Christmas, what do you want Santa to bring you this year?”

Kurt sighed happily and sank into Blaine’s hug. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The genesis of this fic goes back to 2016, when I submitted the following prompt to the TodayDreamBeliever’s 2016 Gift Exchange: _Klaine as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. You get to pick who inhabits which character. You can have them doing anything, e.g. solve a mystery in the style of Holmes or just be hanging out while Holmes plays the violin, or Watson writes his stories for Strand Magazine, as long as it's true to the Sherlock Holmes' canon._
> 
> When a different prompt of mine was picked instead, I asked if I could have this one back. I’ve been a huge fan since childhood of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. He wrote numerous long form and short stories featuring these characters, and one of my cherished possessions is a copy of _The Complete Sherlock Holmes._ If your knowledge of the Holmes canon is from film and/or television, or from contemporary authors such as the brilliant Laurie R. King, who writes the Mary Russell – Sherlock Holmes novels, you owe it to yourself to read what started it all, the stories by Conan Doyle. Begin with the first one, the origin story, _A Study in Scarlet._ You won’t be able to put them down.
> 
> This fic is a mash-up of Klaine and Sherlock Holmes, with a bunch of Glee characters making “cameo appearances” (thanks @flowerfan2 for using that term, I’m stealing it from you for this note!). Throughout the chapters, I have liberally sprinkled a bunch of Glee references which I hope made you smile. I also used some famous Sherlock Holmes quotes from Conan Doyle’s books. In the interest of transparency, and my need to give proper credit, here they are:
> 
> “Come, Watson, come! The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!“ From _The Abbey Grange_
> 
> “It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts.” From _A Scandal in Bohemia_
> 
> “And you don’t want your name to appear?”  
> “Not at all. The work is its own reward.” From _The Norwood Builder_
> 
> “How often have I said that when you have excluded the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?“ First used in _The Sign of Four_


End file.
